


In the Eye of the Beholder

by CptRembrandt



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: But only a little, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, Tony is a voyeur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CptRembrandt/pseuds/CptRembrandt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unintentional sequel to "The Proposal." Tony Stark muses on life, perfection, and his husband Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Eye of the Beholder

Tony loved watching Steve move.  
  
Not only because he was a very muscular six-foot-plus with gorgeous eyes and a nice ass. But because the man really was poetry in motion. Watching him run the obstacle course in the gym was like watching a perfectly-made, perfectly-tuned machine in action. Every motion precise, every landing flawless. Steve didn’t waste a single bit of motion, planned his route through the obstacle course without seeming to need to think about it. It came natural, instinctive. No naturally born human would ever be like this. Not with this level of ease and precision. Tony was the only one who'd come close, and like Steve, he'd had a little artificial help with it.  
  
He snorted at that, took a swallow from his water bottle, and eased back on the bench. No, that was a lie. The suit was good, but it was something man-made, always in need of refinements, improvements. A seemingly perfect facade to hide the imperfection beneath. And really, as human beings went? Yeah, he really wasn't all that sparkling an example anyway.  
  
And yet Steve, that miracle of human perfection, seemed to think he was worth spending time with. Hell, thought he was worthwhile enough to not only share Tony's bed, but his _life_. Tony didn't understand it, but he’d be damned if he was going to argue. Three months since the wedding, and it was still surreal to think about.   
  
He and Steve Rogers.   
  
Married.  
  
The words didn’t really seem to go together. Tony hadn’t been sure about the whole proposing thing, not really. The night he’d finally made up his mind to go through with it, that he’d gone to the trouble of putting together a damn party for it, he’d almost talked himself out it. Even when he was on one knee, proposing, a part of him kept bracing for the inevitable rejection. Was expecting that right up until the moment Steve had produced a ring of his own.  
  
Steve chose that moment to look up from where he crouched at the end of the course, still for a moment as he let himself relax. His expression immediately brightened, visible even from where he stood on the opposite end of the room. It still blew Tony’s mind, that the mere sight of him could invoke such a positive reaction. He’d never get over the novelty value, if nothing else. It left him powerless to do much else than smile right back. "Don't let me distract you," he told the man.  
  
"I was just about done anyway. How long have you been here?"  
  
"Not long. Didn’t want to disturb you."  
  
"You could've said something."  
  
"I prefer watching you."  
  
Steve blushed and Tony grinned. Hey, that was cute. He wasn't even trying to make an innuendo that time. "Don't think I've ever seen anybody but Widow and Barton use the obstacle course."  
  
"I don't often," the soldier admitted, still smiling as Tony walked over and offered up the water bottle. "But I was getting rusty, so I thought a run through was in order. See how badly I'd deteriorated."  
  
"Looked just about perfect to me."  
  
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "I used to be a lot better," He said, slipping an arm around Tony and dragging him in for a hug.  
  
Tony went into the embrace quietly, eyes slipping closed, exhaling a little breath and then inhaling slowly. The man was always warm, but especially so when he’d been exerting himself. He smelled like sweat and the spiced shaving soap Tony had gotten him for Christmas. And underlining all of that was a scent that was distinctly Steve, and damn addicting, as far as Tony was concerned. "Still looked perfect to me," he said. "Didn't miss a jump, didn't botch a landing. How the hell do you get better than _that?"_  
  
Steve smiled.  "I used to be a lot faster. Smoother. It's...I can feel the difference," he said. “Does that make any sense?”  
  
"I think I understand," Tony said, considering that.  
  
And he did. It was the same with his suit. It was the reason for his endless tinkering. Even when the fluctuations were minor, even when _others_ couldn't tell, he knew when the suit wasn't functioning up to its peak. And if Steve felt that way...  
  
Well, maybe neither one of them was as "perfect" as the world thought.  
  
He'd half-expected the thought to be a mildly depressing one. It wasn't. If anything, it actually made him feel a little better. Mister Peak-of-Human-Potential was just as flawed as he was. That? That was actually pretty reassuring.   
  
Tony looked up at Steve, saw the man looking at him a little expectantly, and nearly swore aloud. "Sorry, lover," he said. "Wandered off in my own head again. What were you saying?"  
  
The smile that pulled at the soldier's lips was affectionately exasperated. "I said, did you want to come wash my back?" He was blushing a little.   
  
That was too fucking adorable for words and Tony grinned. "You bet your star-spangled ass I do." He leaned against the other man's side as they walked out of the gym. Yeah, watching Steve was wonderful, but touching him was amazing.  
  
It was going to be a good night.


End file.
